


Sparks

by soldmysoul



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Dramatic Irony, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hope restored, Junkrat meets Roadhog, M/M, Soulmate AU, hopelessness, roadrat - Freeform, smooches, soulmate name on the wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldmysoul/pseuds/soldmysoul
Summary: A name on the wrist. That's all anyone has to go off when it comes to finding their soulmate. But in the Outback, that's easier said than done. Especially in Junkrat's case.





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @accio-ares on Tumblr, this was 100% inspired by this suggestion! I literally couldn't wait to try my hand at it. Also I know this is rated Explicit but I did that just to be on the safe side, tbh. ENJOY!

Stars twinkled in the night sky, something that rarely happened in the Outback. Usually the layer of toxic clouds in the atmosphere obscured all traces of the heavenly bodies, but tonight a swift strong wind had seen fit to clear it all away. Just for tonight, at least. Junkrat lay on his back in the shack at the edge of Junkertown, staring up through the gaping hole in the roof. For once, he was glad he’d put off repairing it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to enjoy this view from his shitty old sleeping mat. It’s the little things in life, right?

He tore his eyes from the dancing lights above him to glance yet again at his wrist, reading the name in the dim light. The name that had been a part of him for as long as he could remember.  _ Mako Rutledge _ . His metal fingers traced the minute letters before pulling down the edge of his fingerless glove to cover it, gaze once again moving to focus on the stars high above. His heart fluttered momentarily, wondering if whoever this Mako was was currently looking at the same stars.  _ Now that’s fuckin’ sappy _ , he thought to himself.  _ Fer all I know this bloke might be on the other side of the world _ . Still, he allowed himself the small hope that maybe that wasn’t the case. That maybe, just maybe, he’d find the guy before either of them kicked the bucket. Junkrat knew his lot in life had thus far been anything but lucky, but hey, a Junker could dream.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his soulmate would be like. Hopefully they’d have at least  _ something _ in common - otherwise it’d be weird for them to be soulmates, matched up by whatever fate or deity or other bullshit controlled all this nonsense. Everytime Junkrat tried to imagine him, though, his scattered mind would get too distracted by other things to come up with a clear image. So for now he settled for admiring the stars for as long as he could, until the subtle glow of the coming dawn crept over the far horizon and they faded from view. He finally sat up when the last one twinkled its farewell, to be replaced by the ever-blazing sun and its unforgiving rays. At least it was nice while it lasted. 

~~~~~

_ Shit, shit, SHIT! _

Junkrat careened around a corner in the ramshackle town, dodging into a tiny back alley in an effort to lose his pursuers. All he wanted was to be left alone, was that too much to ask? Apparently the answer was yes, especially since he’d been an idiot and gone blabbing about his discovery to whomever was within earshot.  _ Stupid dumbass _ , he chastised himself, pausing just long enough to catch his breath for a moment once he was sure he hadn’t been followed.  _ Of course they want yer treasure, why couldn’t ya keep yer yap shut?! _ He heard the shouting of the other men fade into the distance, obviously having lost his trail. He allowed himself to relax just a bit, safe for the moment as he panted heavily. Finally he made his way to the opposite end of the alley, finding himself back on the main thoroughfare. He was checking over his shoulder for any sign of the men who wanted him dead, when suddenly he found himself smacking right into a wall of flesh. 

“Oi! Watch where ya goin’, ya drong…  _ oh.”  _ His anger died on his lips as he turned and came face-to-gut with the largest man he’d ever seen. He tittered nervously, backing away as the mountain of a man growled at him menacingly. “Ehehe, sorry ‘bout that, mate. No harm, no foul, eh?” he stammered, holding his hands up in apology. A glance up and down the man’s form confirmed that he was indeed massive, holding a menacing looking hook in one hand, with a pig-like mask covering his visage. Junkrat swallowed hard, fully realizing just who he was up against. 

_ Roadhog _ . One of the most feared bounty hunters in all of the Outback, known for his ruthless and bloodthirsty nature. Junkrat felt his knees turn to jelly and his blood turn to ice.  _ So this is how I die _ , he thought briefly, laughing shakily in an attempt to hide his growing fear. He took another step backwards, and Roadhog advanced, clearly not intending to give him a chance to escape. Not that it would do much good. If he tried to make a break for it, that nasty hook would have him back in front of the brute before he knew it. 

He started to open his mouth to ask what the man wanted, but before he could Roadhog’s voice rumbled. “Come with me.” He turned and walked away, and Junkrat rapidly considered his options before deciding to follow the other man. No use giving the big guy an excuse to kill him if it wasn't already on his agenda. They threaded their way through the many people in the crowd, most of whom gave them a wide berth anyway. Junkrat could feel dozens of eyes on him as he passed, and it did nothing to ease the discomfort he felt at the situation. They finally made their way to a secluded alley, away from prying eyes. Roadhog stopped and turned to face Junkrat, eerie mask void of expression. 

“Treasure. Where.” It was a demand more than a question, as Roadhog stared down at the smaller man waiting for the answer. Junkrat’s eyes went wide, suddenly defensive. 

“Yer fuckin’ jokin’, right? No way in bleedin’ hell am I tellin’ ya where me treasure is!” he snarled, baring his crooked teeth. Roadhog growled in frustration, his enormous hands suddenly wrapped around Junkrat's throat and putting just enough pressure on his windpipe to make breathing more than a little difficult. Junkrat was sure the larger man could snap his neck like a twig if he wanted, but then he’d have no way of knowing where the treasure was. Junkrat allowed himself a cocky chuckle as he thought he might have the upper hand here, gasping for air even as he did so. “Ya really think yer gonna get it from me like this? Dumber’n ya look, mate.” The thick fingers around his throat tightened subtly, and the edges of Junkrat’s vision started to blur. His fingers grasped at the heavy arm in front of him, scrambling for purchase to try and pry the fingers away with no luck. “Wait wait wait,” he gasped, and the fingers loosened slightly. Junkrat took that as a sign to continue as he sucked air into his lungs. 

“Wot if I hire ya, eh?” He was desperate, and Roadhog knew it. He grunted and Junkrat kept talking, “Yer not the only bastard after me treasure, not by a long shot. I’ll hire ya ta protect me and me loot, and in exchange I’ll split the goods with ya 70-30. Whaddya say?” The fingers applied more pressure to his throat, and he tried not to choke on his words. “Alright alright, 60-40?” The man rumbled threateningly, and Junkrat’s vision started to go black. Somehow he managed to gasp out his final offer. “HALF!” The grip loosened and sweet oxygen flooded his lungs, making him a bit dizzy. He looked up at the reflective lenses of the mask, repeating his offer. “I’ll give ya half, split it 50-50, if ya keep me alive and protect me. Plus half of anything from side jobs, yeah?” He could almost see the wheels turning in contemplation behind the mask, weighing the pros and cons of such employment. After what seemed an eternity, the hand around his neck retreated, no doubt leaving bruises in its wake. Junkrat sighed heavily in relief. “So, that’s a yes then?” The massive hand came toward him again and he flinched, but then he noticed it was open and had stopped between them. He glanced nervously up at the bounty hunter. 

“Shake on it,” he growled, the bloodlust seemingly gone for the moment. Junkrat did as he was told, his slender metallic hand easily engulfed by Roadhog’s gigantic one. When he did, something passed between them, like an invisible spark, hot and cold at the same time. Both of them froze for a split second before quickly releasing each other’s hand. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Junkrat remembered that he was now in charge of this monstrous man in front of him. 

“Right, eh, well…” he began, rubbing his tender neck and looking anywhere else but at Roadhog. “I should probably go get me things, so... c’mon, I guess.” He gestured for him to follow, painfully aware of Roadhog’s stare boring into his back as they made their way to the outskirts of the town. He did his best to ignore the stares that followed them through the town. After all, he didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to off him anymore, right? For the first time in his young life, he didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder - although he did so repeatedly, simply out of habit. And every time he did, the big guy was still back there, trailing behind far enough to give him some personal space but not far enough to lose him. 

Junkrat thought again about that weird sensation that had shot through him when they shook hands. He was sure Roadhog had felt it too, judging at least from his body language. He wondered what it meant, sure he’d find out eventually.

~~~~~

It had been a few months since the beginning of their partnership, if that’s what you'd call it. In that time they’d made quite a reputation for themselves - “Wanted” posters of their faces plastered every town they came across. They’d been all over the continent, raising hell and mayhem wherever they could. Robbing banks, stealing anything they could get their hands on, killing whoever got in their way - it was a pretty rewarding lifestyle, to be honest. It also meant that Junkrat got to blow up as much shit as he wanted, which always left him feeling giddy and fulfilled. And of course, they split all the profits 50-50, per their original agreement. 

Junkrat had come to find that Roadhog was a man of very few words. That wasn’t a problem, though, since the younger man chattered more than enough to make up for both of them. He’d also discovered that the other man wasn’t nearly so intimidating once he got to know him a bit. He had a weakness for pachimari, and sometimes would go out of his way during a heist to nab a few of the plushies from a nearby store window before continuing with their rampage. He also read. A lot. There were always at least half a dozen books in the saddlebag of his chopper, and while Junkrat only had a rudimentary knowledge of written language, Roadhog clearly knew more than that. After all, he  _ had _ been alive before the disaster, so he knew a lot more than Junkrat, actually. 

Junkrat reflected on all of this as they hunkered down in an old abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere for the night. It was bloody freezing, and of course the thin scratchy blanket from his pack didn’t make much of a difference. They didn’t dare light a fire at night and risk being spotted, even though they were sure there was nobody around for miles. Roadhog was lying on his bedroll, hands clasped on his mountainous belly, breathing long steady breaths that indicated he was fast asleep. Not for the first time, Junkrat considered curling up against the side of his bodyguard for warmth. The big guy was practically a human furnace, and it was incredibly tempting to take advantage of that radiating heat tonight. Junkrat finally gave in, cursing his own lack of body heat, and quietly crawled over to the larger man, careful not to wake him. He silently spread his own small bedroll next to Roadhog’s, listening for any changes in his breathing to show he that he might be waking. So far so good. Finally he eased himself down to the ground, wrapping his meager blanket around himself once again. He inched closer to Roadhog’s side, already able to feel the heat emanating from his hulking form. He tried to control his shivering and twitching, afraid he’d wake the other man, and soon he felt his eyes get heavier and heavier as his body slowly warmed. 

~~~~~

The next morning, Junkrat awoke to a comfortable weight across his torso, warm and secure. He relished the feeling for a moment, snuggling into it with a small smile on his face. And then his groggy brain realized that it was Roadhog’s arm thrown across him, and he stiffened. He felt that same strange cold heat he’d felt when they first shook hands, although it wasn't so shocking now - he’d only felt it once or twice since that first time, and only when Roadhog touched him. It sounded like the other man was still asleep, judging from his breathing, but he couldn’t be too sure. He tried to keep his heart from racing, but he was sure it was pounding so loud that it could wake the dead. He didn't want his bodyguard to find him in this awkward position. Roadhog shifted in his sleep, and his arm lifted just enough for Junkrat to dart back to his previous sleeping spot just as he heard the larger man rumble out a yawn from beneath his mask. 

“Ah, heh, mornin’!” Junkrat stuttered, trying to sound innocent and cheerful. There was no way he was about to admit that the way he’d just woken up in Roadhog’s arms was sending all sorts of complicated emotions through his addled brain.  _ Just act normal _ , he told himself, rolling up his bedroll that he’d managed to snatch up as he made his escape. Roadhog grunted in response, stretching and standing to do the same with his own bedroll. So far he acted like nothing was amiss, and Junkrat visibly relaxed. They went about business as usual then, taking a few bites of rations and gathering their belongings, with Junkrat stealing furtive glances at his bodyguard when he felt sure he wasn’t looking.  _ Bloke really is good-lookin’, in a powerful sorta way _ , Junkrat found himself musing. And then he realized something else.

“Oi, I was thinkin’, Roadie,” he began. “I don’t even know yer real name.” Roadhog grunted as he packed their few belongings onto the bike, his back to his employer. Junkrat suddenly had a strange sense of déjà vu, and got the feeling this wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question of the other man. He was pretty forgetful, after all. 

“Keep it that way, Rat,” he said, indicating that the other man needed to change the subject. Junkrat pouted a bit, dropping the topic for now, at least. 

“Fine fine, whatever ya say, mate. Just curious, it all.” He gathered the last of his personal effects and dumped them in the sidecar before Roadhog guided the huge chopper outside. Junkrat hopped into the sidecar as the massive man started the engine and took his seat behind the handlebars.

They roared across the red desert for hours, only stopping during the worst heat of the day so that they could take shelter in yet another abandoned building. It looked like it used to be a service station of some kind, with long-dry gas pumps falling to ruin out front. Inside was relatively cool, the cinderblocks insulating from the blazing temperatures outside. Roadhog wheeled the chopper inside the garage and rolled the door shut as Junkrat grabbed a few explosives to tinker with while they laid low. The mad bomber muttered to himself continuously while he worked, earning a few glances from his silent companion to ensure he wasn’t about to blow them both sky high at any given moment. 

Soon enough, the sun dropped below the horizon and the temperature plummeted - such was the hellish dichotomy of the Outback. By day you fry, by night you freeze. Junkrat had lived here his entire life yet he didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. He stopped fiddling with his gadgets enough to dig his blanket out of his pack, wrapping it around his shoulders and once again hunching over his scrap pile. After a while his hands were shaking so badly that he knew he should stop working - one wrong move could prove fatal for both of them.  

He carefully picked up the pieces on the ground and placed them into his pack, hearing Roadhog close his book of choice for the night in preparation for heading to bed. While he was up Junkrat grabbed both of their bedrolls from the bike, tossing Roadhog’s his way before spreading his own on the ground a few yards from the big guy. As he tried his best to get comfortable, he heard Roadhog grunting to stand up behind him. He assumed he was just standing so he could spread his bedroll comfortably on the hard concrete, but another moment later Junkrat felt the unmistakeable presence of the other man close behind him. He glanced over his shoulder nervously, and in the dim light he could see Roadhog lying on his back just inches from him. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, mate? Miss me or somethin’?” he joked, chuckling nervously. He clutched the blanket tighter around himself, although he could feel the heat coming off Roadhog in waves.

“Won't do anybody any good if you freeze to death, Rat,” he grunted. Junkrat froze, remembering what had happened the night before and that morning.  _ I wonder if he… _ “And don’t think I don’t know what happened last night. Or this morning,” Roadhog said quietly, almost as if he had read the smaller man’s mind. 

“Oh I, eh, hehe well,” Junkrat scrambled for words, for once at a loss. “I just-” 

“Next time just ask,” the big man interrupted. Junkrat stayed quiet for another moment, trying to organize his thoughts. 

“Uh… well, thanks, mate,” he finally managed. “It really did help, actually. Come ta think of it, best night o’ sleep I’ve had in ages.” It really was - he hadn’t woken from a fitful nightmare or anything remotely unpleasant like that. Junkrat considered his growing feelings for the other man, folding his arm underneath his head, and suddenly he didn’t feel much like sleeping. The silence hung in the air heavily before he finally said something. “Hey, Roadie… ya know all this name nonsense, yeah?” he murmured, silently tracing the letters on his wrist under the edge of his glove. Roadhog huffed in response and the younger man continued. “All seems pretty stupid ta me. Bein’ told who we’re meant ta end up with and all that. Who’s ta say we’ll ever even find that person anyway?” He thought about Mako, wherever he might be in the wide, cruel world. He thought about the slim chance that they’d ever even find each other. And he thought about his partner-in-crime, the man behind him. Sure, Roadhog was his hired muscle, and he was basically being paid to give a shit about Junkrat’s well-being - but did he care more than that? A part of the younger man thought maybe so, at least he hoped that might be the case.  _ I don’t see that Mako bloke anywhere… why should I have ta wait around on him anyway?  _ He resigned himself to the hopelessness of the situation. “Sure as hell ain’t ever gonna find mine,” he muttered dejectedly. 

He abruptly felt Roadhog’s thick arm wrap around his torso, wordlessly pulling him closer and sending that shocking sensation through his body again. Junkrat couldn’t help but lean into the larger man. He didn’t care anymore, the warmth and comforting physical contact was too welcoming, and he’d been wanting it for too long without realizing it until now. He hummed contentedly as Roadhog’s breath rumbled behind him, and fully relaxed into the pressure at his back. They lay like that for a while, comfortable in each other’s presence.  _ Why does this feel so… right? _ Junkrat wondered.  _ Just goes ta show this soulmate crap really is bullshit _ . It could just be that he’d been alone for, well, forever, but it felt like more than that. Not that he knew anything about emotions, but this felt like something along those lines at least. All these complicated thoughts swirling around in his head came to a screeching halt when Roadhog sighed heavily behind him, bringing him back to reality. 

“Ya alright, Roadie?” he queried. He could clearly feel the big guy’s heart pounding behind him. After a few uncertain moments, Roadhog began to speak, sounding…  _ shit, wot’s he so nervous about? _

“That’s… not my name,” he breathed hesitantly. Junkrat’s breath hitched, not daring to move or interrupt, his eyes wide in the darkness as his pulse quickened. “You’ve asked me dozens of times what my name is, and every time I won’t tell. All this  _ soulmate _ shit is pointless. It’s fucking stupid, because what’s the point of just knowing someone’s name? What’s the goddamn point if you don’t even know if they’re alive or dead? Living with the knowledge that you’re meant to be with someone and  _ maybe _ they’re somewhere out there in the world? Simply based on a name?” His voice had stayed low, calm, resolute. He’d clearly given this a lot of thought over the years. And let's face it, it's hard to stay hopeful for long in a place like the ruined Outback. It was the most Junkrat had ever heard him say at once, and he was utterly surprised to hear so many words tumble from behind the emotionless mask. He paused for a few seconds, as if choosing his next words carefully. “Fuck it all, Rat, it doesn’t matter.” At some point in his rant his large thumb had started to stroke Junkrat’s side through the thin fabric of the blanket, almost an anxious action, but Junkrat didn't even notice, he was so focused on every word Roadhog spoke. 

“My name’s Mako. Mako Rutledge.”

Junkrat’s heart nearly stopped, and he froze for a split second before slowly, very slowly, turning to face the man he’d hired to be his bodyguard. He felt mute for a second, mouth opening and closing before being able to find the words he’s searching for. “What… what did you just say?” he asked incredulously, heart pounding so hard he thought it might leap from his chest. He scrambled to look at Roadhog as best as he could in the faint ambient light, watching as the other man sat up as well. “Say that again,” he demanded. Roadhog caught something in the other man’s voice and seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation, giving Junkrat his full attention before answering. 

“My name is Mako Rutledge. And if you say your real name is anything other than Jamison Fawkes, I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” he replied, voice nearly cracking with emotion. Junkrat’s everything felt like it was on fire as he tried to calm himself.

“My name’s Jamison Fawkes,” he confirmed. “And you’re Mako.  _ You’re Mako _ ,” he breathed, afraid it all might be a dream. A grin split his face as he tried to hold back the hot tears pricking at his eyes. “You’re… you’re  _ my Mako!” _ he exclaimed, laughing excitedly. He couldn’t believe it, it all seemed so unreal. He attempted to throw himself at Roadhog - at Mako - but a large hand held him back. 

“Wait, just… hold on,” the other man said, voice heavy. Jamison could hear fumbling for a moment, and suddenly a small lantern flickered to life, momentarily blinding both of them. After their eyes adjusted, Mako practically tore off his left glove, revealing the small, faded name on his wrist.  _ Jamison Fawkes _ . Jamison was just literate enough to know it was indeed his name on the thick wrist in front of him. He removed his own glove as well, showing Mako the letters that he’d so often touched, the name he knew almost as if it were his own.  _ Mako Rutledge. _ They looked at each other’s wrists for a long while, almost not believing what they were seeing. 

After what seemed an eternity, Mako finally spoke, raising his masked face to look at Jamison. “I had to be sure,” his voice rumbled. He reached up to the buckles that held his mask in place, deftly undoing them to remove the leather barrier. When he finally set it aside, his eyes were shining. Jamison had always known that the other man was older than him, and now that he could properly see his face he could see evidence of it. Grizzled white stubble along his jaw, full lips, short round nose, deep brown eyes, and plenty of scars covering his visage. No amount of fantasizing could have prepared him for how handsome Mako was, in his own way. Jamison's mouth was agape as he stared at his soulmate.

Mako reached out a hand to cup Jamison’s face and the younger man leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and grasping the hand with his own. “I gave up so long ago,” Mako murmured, his voice less garbled without the mask in the way. Jamison opened his eyes and they stared at each other as if for the first time. “And now… this can't be real,” Mako said, his voice on the verge of cracking. Jamison chuckled abruptly and a tear slid down his filthy cheek.

“Well, mate, if it's not real then  _ I'm _ the one who's gonna lose me fuckin’ mind.” At this the other man laughed quietly, smile lighting up his face as he pulled Jamison onto his ample lap and wrapped both arms around him, practically crushing him to his chest. Jamison threw his arms around the wide shoulders and they laughed uproariously, their joy echoing in the tiny space.

“And here I was, worried I'd be givin’ up on Mako if I told ya how I felt about ya, ya big lug!” Jamison chuckled. Mako’s booming laughter shook the smaller man's entire frame a he held him close. Their bodies both buzzed with the full-blown energy that was merely hinted at in those few touches since they met, and now they finally understood what it had meant. 

When they finally pulled away, both reluctant to do so, Jamison’s hand travelled to the back of Mako’s head as he stared into his soulmate’s eyes. Unable to control himself any longer, he leaned in and pressed their mouths together, feeling Mako’s plump lips against his own. He tasted like sweat and leather but Jamison didn't give a flying fuck - this was the man he'd been waiting his whole life for, and they'd been right in front of each other for months without knowing it. Mako deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Jamison’s mouth with a hunger that bespoke the decades of lost hope suddenly restored. The younger man moaned, the sound muffled by what was happening. They bit at each other's lips, breathing heavily, insatiable in their mutual desire to be closer. Mako tipped back Jamison’s head to expose his slender neck, sucking and licking just below his jawline. Jamison gasped and groaned in pleasure as his fingers tightened in Mako’s silver hair and the older man hummed, satisfied in his ability to reduce Jamison to a puddle in his lap. 

“Hooley dooley, I could get used ta this, Mako,” Jamison breathed, tittering dazedly. Mako gave a quick laugh, continuing to pepper kisses along Jamison’s neck and shoulders. There would be plenty of time for more than this later, but Mako had waited this long already - he was going to take his time, take things slow, now that he'd finally found his own treasure after all these years.

Everything seemed different. Sure, they were both still criminals, still stuck in this miserable wasteland together. But maybe now it wouldn’t be quite so miserable. And they wouldn't be alone. And that, they both thought, was worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Was that fluffy enough for y'all? I couldn't stop grinning while I wrote it!!! SO MUCH CUTE ROADRAT! Anyway, lemme know what you think!
> 
> My Tumblr


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